dream a little dream
by warmaidens
Summary: To say Yuri was interested in Estellise was an understatement. — twoshot [reupload]
1. winsome

**disclaimer—** tales of vesperia © namco/namco tales studio

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There she was again; Estellise Sidos Heurassein. The pretty pink-headed little thing was dancing around the colly old tavern with Flynn, her frilly skirt bouncing around as she tried to hold it up with one hand and dance with her free arm locked with Flynn's. Hungry, drunken eyes lingered on her chemisette as if waiting for something to fly out. Though Yuri wasn't too expectant on that happening, he wouldn't mind knocking some heads together over her.

To say Yuri was interested in Estellise was an understatement.

Estellise was pure nobility. Residing in, quite literally, the highest room of the tallest tower of Zaphias Castle, Yuri couldn't help but wonder why a girl like her would come down to the Lower Quarter every other week to prance around a room full of drunken perverts until sunrise. Especially with _Flynn_.

To say Yuri was _jealous_ of Flynn was right on point.

The blond was a lucky dog, that's for sure. Estellise had this way about her that was winsome and innocent, but still had the men drooling over her nonetheless; probably because she wasn't like the tavern wenches that practically threw themselves out there in unadulterated desperation. No, not at all. She was alluring in her own natural way, and had Yuri becoming far too curious about her in the months he'd been watching her come and go without a word.

Not that he had a problem with that, even if all he was was a lower class citizen who wasted too much time in the tavern, and she was princess-status.

Yuri was nearly caught by surprise when he noticed Flynn was no longer by Estellise's side, for he was making his way to the bar and a drunk man already commenced hitting on the "lonely" girl. Something bubbled deep within him that he couldn't care to address properly, and it took him no more than four quick strides across the room to reach the petite pinkette and practically sweep her off her feet, asking with suave disposition, "care to dance, _Estelle_?" as he _just_ avoided a rather harsh sucker punch.

Long, eggplant-colored locks swayed freely as he moved in step to the fast-paced rhythm of the bouzoukis and chalice drums, chuckling at the angry look on the drunkard's red face. He barely noticed the blush forming on Estellise's porcelain cheeks until he pulled her to his chest one moment and sent her away the next, wondering if he was maybe acting _just _a bit too similar to the blond soldier watching from the sidelines.


	2. forbidden

**disclaimer—** tales of vesperia © namco/namco tales studio  
**notes—** estelle's POV of winsome

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There was once a time when Estelle quietly followed the every order and instruction given to her by the castle.

They told her that she was too fragile to breathe the air that came from the "depths of the abysmal" Lower Quarter, and would proceed to saying: _"Lady Estellise, those 'things' do not deserve to breathe the same air as a 'Princess'. However, we can ready your sunroom if you wish to stand outside."_

Time after time they told her these things, and time after time she came even closer to not caring. The teachings of the castle were something Estelle was far from fond of. She loved laughing and dancing and gazing in wonder at the vast world below, flaws and all, from the highest room in the tallest tower of Castle Zaphias.

She did love her books and everything that came with living in the castle, of course; but the moment Estelle felt herself wanting to scold the residents of the Lower Quarter the way the maids did, she _knew_ she'd been brainwashed by their apparent "teaching", and decided to finally do something about it instead of obliviously living a lie the way she did.

And, as the sun fell one uneventful evening, that was what lead her, eventually and inevitably, to order a guard by the name of Flynn Scifo to take her to a ransack tavern she'd heard the maids talking down upon one fateful day. He did so loyally, albeit hesitantly, and when he—miraculously—snuck her out of her window and they ran hand-in-hand down a grassy path to the tavern, she knew it was worth the trouble.

But when the man by the name of Yuri Lowell strode across the tavern and socked that poor, _poor_ man in his jaw—inducing a silence like no other—then proceeded to take her hand in his own and pull her into a dance, she barely noticed how her cheeks burned red.

Instead, she wondered how this man that she was so curious about since day one, was so tender in the way he touched her when he'd just practically knocked out the man in front of them.

She wondered why her heart wanted to smile when he called her _Estelle_ instead of _Lady Estellise_.

She wondered why her stomach fluttered with butterflies when he placed his hand at the small of her back and his dazzling eyes gazed into hers.

But most of all, Estelle wondered why she and Flynn had arranged this moment, when he'd caught her watching the man with violet hair in awe; when the possibilities were endless, yet _knowing_ anything between them was impossible to achieve.

Because he was a "peasant" and she a "princess", and—no matter how badly she was against it all, no matter how she would love nothing more than to see Yuri again the way she saw him now—any romantic connection between the two was painstakingly forbidden.


End file.
